Page 56

Chapter 56

Rahk

The night is thick around me as I pen a note to Edvear in my study. I try not to feel anything at all except a dull resignation. I did not come to the human lands to marry, much less to fall in love. I knew better the entire time. Princes of Nothril should not form attachments—I’ve always known this. Yet I loved Pavi. I loved Ash.

I loved Kat.

And now, just as I always knew it would, it has become my downfall.

It makes sense that there was something else holding her back. She loved me. Still loves me. It has been so plain across her face when I look at her. It’s there in the small things—the way she cares so much about the length of my life. The tears she tried so hard to swallow.

I’m so relieved I never bonded with her in my people’s way.

When I finish, I fold the letter, seal it with wax, and scrawl my steward’s name on the back. Then I get my swords. Their familiar weight on my back reminds me of what I am. What I have always been. What I should never have been foolish enough to fight.

I leave my study. I crane my ears, listening for even a hint of Kat, but am met with silence. Every few minutes, however, when I turn my head just so, I can catch a whiff of her scent lingering on my clothes, in the air.

I make my way outside. The temptation to turn back, to search for a light in the bedroom window, is almost too strong. Almost .

I stretch out my wings, willing my heart to burn cold.

Then I shoot into the sky without a single backwards glance.

My glamours struggle the closer I get to the palace. I yank them around me harder. Pain bursts across my scalp, running down my spine. I grit my teeth and refuse to ease up on my magic use. When, at last, the flags flying in the palace turrets become visible in the night, I angle downward, tuck in my wings, and plunge over the walls.

I choose a shadowy rooftop to land. For a moment, I release my glamours. A gasp of relief nearly breaks free of my throat, but I keep it restrained. I keep my wings as close to my body as possible while I brace my boots against the clay tiles. Then I survey the palace complex around me. I note all the places I can see guards, and all the strategic places there might be guards that I cannot see. My glamours are so weak this far from Faerie that I cannot rely too heavily on them.

I do not know exactly where my target is, but it is not difficult to narrow down the possibilities. I consider my path, noting the guards, the sections where I must rely on stealth and the places where glamour is necessary.

Then I move.

My first guess proves right.

When I land silently on a window ledge and peer inside, I see just the evidence I wanted: a nursemaid fallen asleep in a rocking chair beside a closed door. I keep my breath even as I inspect the lock on the window. A small blade is all I need to slide the bolt and ease open the frame.

Though the moon is far from full, it casts my shadow in stark relief on the nursery floor. I slip into the shadows and approach the sleeping nursemaid. She does not stir until I place my hand over her face. Her eyes fly wide, but the words have already spilled out of my lips. She slumps back into the rocking chair as I brace against the slash of pain through my chest.

Young Prince Lionel slumbers soundly in his bed, holding a stuffed lion to his chest.

I place my hand over his face, and he does not stir as I use the same spell to deepen his sleep. Then I lift him into my arms, slip back to the window, and climb onto the sill.

I try to pull my glamours back in place, but after the second use of the sleeping spell, I cannot grab hold of the magic. I curse under my breath and grit my teeth.

But what use is the queen’s trust to me now? Why not forever make an enemy of her? It is not as though I will be staying in Harbright. I have nothing to lose now. My loyalty is to the High King and Queen of Faerieland, and to Nothril. That was all that ever mattered.

So I do not use glamour as I launch into the night, holding the sleeping prince tight to my chest. Nothing shields me from the searching eyes of the guards on the ground and in the towers. I fly as quickly as I can, but the alarm goes up before I leave. I beat my wings as fast as I can and soon, I am beyond the palace.

We don’t have much time now.

The flight to the edge of Caphryl Wood is excruciatingly long. I count the minutes, trying to estimate how far behind the queen’s cavalry will be. Not as far as I would like.

We reach the rise before the dip into the valley at the edge of the Wood. There, I lay the boy on the ground. Ruckus and troll roars echo from below, but I focus on the prince. I place my hand over his face again, this time muttering a wake spell. It flows from me with relief this close to Faerie. The boy’s eyes pop open. He startles immediately, sitting up and scooting backward to get away from me.

“What are you—” He stops, looks around. “Where are we?”

I do not get to my feet, lest he feel small compared to me. Instead, I put more space between us and stay on my knees. Anything to relax him even just a little bit. “We are here at the edge of the Long Lost Wood. You are the true ruler of Harbright, so there is something you must do to protect your people that no one else can do.”

A serious light enters his young face. He straightens his shoulders, and he does not regard me with fear, but respect. He gets to his feet. “What must I do?”

My memory flashes back to when I was his age. I had the same attitude. The same innocent desire to serve my people. I turn away from him, a coldness entering my lungs. “Come this way.”

He follows me to the edge of the rise. I point to the troll in the valley. He is his usual, lumbering mass, but to my horror, blood streams down his face. A body lies at his great, lumpy feet. A body that looks very like one of the thieves I saw trying to steal the farmers’ hard work from them earlier.

I told the queen this would happen.

Prince Lionel gasps, covering his mouth. My instinct is to cover his eyes, too. But he is the ruler of this land. He will one day be king. He should know the reality of his duty.

“That is Ymer the Indefatigable. He is one of the old trolls of Faerieland. Only you have the power to tell him to leave Harbright and return to Faerie.”

The boy swallows. “If I tell him to leave, he will not kill any more people?”

“He will not,” I reply.

“Will he eat me?”

I shake my head. “I will protect you. You do not have to go down there if you are afraid, but if you do not, more people will die.”

The boy lifts his chin exactly the way Queen Vivienne always does. “I will go down there.”

We walk down the rise together. The farming has not stopped, though a wide berth is given to Ymer. The boy’s steps slow the closer we get to the massive troll in the midst of his bloody meal. He does not stop, however.

“Is that nice small elf with food for Ymer?” calls the troll toward us. Just as quickly, his face wrinkles. “Not nice small elf.”

“What shall I say?” the boy whispers to me.

“You shall say, ‘Great Ymer, the Indefatigable, as the ruler of this land, I command you to return to Faerieland.’ ”

He nods. His cheeks turn pale. Still, he continues on until we stand before the troll.

“Great Ymer,” begins Prince Lionel in his young, shaking voice, “the In—Inde—the Indefatable—the Inde—”

“Indefatigable,” I mutter.

“Great Ymer the Indefat—igable,” he manages.

He has accomplished the hardest part.

His voice grows clearer and stronger as he continues. “As the ruler of this land, I command you to return to Faerieland.”

Ymer looks up from his meal. His attention glosses over me, coming to rest on the young boy at my side. Slowly, Ymer gets to his feet and pulls himself to his full height.

Prince Lionel takes a frightened step back. I place a hand between his shoulder blades and scoot him forward. “Do not retreat,” I order.

He seems to bite back a whimper.

“You are the ruler of this land,” I remind him.

He clenches his jaw. Then he balls his fists and screams at the top of his lungs: “Great Ymer the Indefatigable, as the ruler of this land, I command you return to Faerieland! This instant !”

Ymer stares down at him from his towering height. Then he crashes to his knees, sending the entire ground shaking. “Ruler of this land!” Ymer bellows. “Ymer is honored to do as ruler commands! May ruler live forever!”

A slow, mirthless smile spreads across my mouth. Prince Lionel doesn’t seem to have a clue what to do with a troll offering him obeisance. It does not matter, though, because only a moment later, Ymer the Indefatigable gets back to his feet, picks up the rest of his meal, and tromps into Caphryl Wood. Never to bother the human world again.

I smirk down at the boy. “Excellent work, King Lionel of Harbright.”

He blushes.

The pounding of hooves yanks my attention back to the rise just as an entire army crests the hill. I curse under my breath.

I bend down to the boy. “They are here to rescue you, and kill me.”

“Kill you?” cries the boy, immediately distraught.

If only he knew how many times his mother had plotted my demise. “If you want me to live, go back to them at once. It will give me a chance to escape.”

Prince Lionel bursts into a run, screaming his name at the top of his lungs as he hurries toward the knights come to rescue him. I wait long enough to be sure that they will not charge their horses and run the boy over. Then, when he has been scooped up into the arms of a trusted warrior, I survey my options.

There are too many for me to fight. Far too many. I can use my glamours and fly back to my estate, but that will be the first place for the queen to send her forces. Kat could get caught in the crossfire.

No, the army must see me leave Harbright. For good.

I cast one last glance in the direction of my estate. Toward where Kat sleeps. A burst of pain, completely unrelated to magic use, slices through me. I ignore it.

The army of Harbright warriors charge into the valley.

I turn on my heel and sprint onto the Path to Nothril.